Better Shinigami
by May000
Summary: Misa was content just watching Kira and idolising him, until a black notebook appeared in her living room. Rem/Misa
1. Break In

A/N: My take on this pairing.

Disclaimer: Death Note and the characters and situations therein do not belong to me. Also, the views shown by the characters here are not representative of mine.

Break-In

When Misa had heard the news, something had made her feel pleasantly warm. The man that everyone from the detectives to the courts had failed to bring to justice was finally rotting in his grave like those he'd killed. Perhaps she wouldn't have cared about Kira at all had that not happened. If her parents were still alive and well and she was visiting them at weekends, and they were taking her to lunch after her modelling sessions and she was still carefully choosing birthday presents for them, well…she might not have noticed Kira much at all.

Misa-Misa did not do murder. Murder was not pretty or happy. Misa-Misa was always pretty and happy. Everyone said so. But ugly and sad things happened to Misa-Misa, which meant that she couldn't be pretty and happy all the time, because the world was not pretty and happy all of the time. But maybe Kira could make it so. Maybe Kira could make it so more girls could still be spending Christmas with their parents, shopping with their mothers and having coffee with their fathers over breakfast.

So Misa supported him. She saved cut-outs of articles from magazines and newspapers, and stuck them onto purple craft paper so it matched the décor of her room. She lit candles for him and avidly watched television when he was on. It felt good, but she was fine with no active part in it. She had her modelling, and hopefully, soon, her acting. She would be twenty soon and the last thing she wanted was to be getting progressively less teen work and have that be the only work that she was getting. She wasn't going to be joining any rallies and she really had no idea how he did what he did. Only that he did it.

Then, one evening, she'd come home from a particularly hard day's work and collapsed on the sofa before removing her painfully new platform mary-janes. Among the bright covers of her magazines, she had noticed something different. It was a notebook and completely black which was unlikely for Misa. She liked black, but usually it would be trimmed with pink or silver or something to make it pretty. 'Death Note' was written on the front cover in katakana.

Misa dropped it, her blood running cold. Somebody had slipped into her apartment and had left it as a message. Another stalker. _Had to be_. The fear blanched through Misa as she fumbled for her phone. Her hands shook, making it hard for her long-nailed index finger to accurately dial for the police. Her eyes were filling with tears but the best she could do was phone the police and get out of the house. She didn't want to be at knife-point again.

She got through, finally, her voice quavering as she reported the intruder. Somebody had left something on her table and she was the only one with a key and how did they get in. How did they get in? The voice on the other end was reassuring but distant. Everyone else was so far away, all over again. They might still be in her apartment. Come, please come, now, she pleaded down the phone. The woman's voice on the other end continued to assure her. Empty reassurance, getting emptier by the second. It was okay, though, somebody was coming.

Misa hung up and let the phone drop from her hand, and sat with her knees against her chest. She listened, intently, and then readied herself. Still shaking, she got to her feet and padded towards the kitchen. There was a knife on the side that she'd used to slice vegetables for her lunchtime salad. It still glistened with the juice and a slight tangy smell still wafted as she grabbed, offering an odd sort of grounding comfort.

Still unsteady on her stockinged feet, she crept back into the living room and waited for a knock at the door or for somebody to come up behind her. The police would be there, soon. She glanced at the table, as if somehow the notebook would have disappeared. It was the strangest threat she'd ever received. This did not make it any less frightening.

"Do not be afraid, Amane Misa," boomed a voice, suddenly. Misa screamed, and lunged with the knife. She ended up embedding it in an exposed bone which, despite being a leg bone, reached her shoulder. Misa knew she was little but it was rare that people had pelvises in her eye-line.

She looked up. It took a while for her mind to process the fact that she was staring at a ten foot tall skeleton. The scream that had been building up over the last half an hour finally erupted from her throat. She shut her eyes tight and waited for the fatal blow, and prayed that the police would get there in the next four seconds. Nothing happened and she opened her eyes.

The thing was standing there still as anything. Misa still felt a chill settle into her bones, but it really didn't seem like the thing was ready to attack. The doorbell rang, and startled her. It was the police. Misa answered, and opened the door wide. If they could see the monster, she wouldn't have to explain.

"It just arrived in my flat," she said, eyes wide and voice quavering. The policeman blushed, but looked non-plussed.

"What did, Miss?" he asked, his voice slow and steady, as if he was talking to somebody who wasn't quite sane.

"He can't see me," said the skeleton, its voice like rattling bones and wind rushing through dead branches.

"Oh..." Misa tried to think quickly, the expression of the policeman was that of a good-natured person who was prepared to subdue a crazy if need be. "Never mind. It was, um, a mouse, but it seems to have gone now."

Before he could reply, she smiled briefly and sweetly and shut the door. She stood still for a minute. Was she going crazy? Was the stress from her career getting to her? She turned around at last. The thing was…even if it wasn't going to attack her, it was still creepy. It felt a little like it shouldn't be there, like its presence in this world, in her living room, was wrong. On the floor by its feet was the knife.

"I turned intangible," said the skeleton. "You cannot hurt me that way."

It must have been twice as tall as her, and seemed to be made entirely of bone without skin or muscle. When she had first seen it, she'd thought she'd seen a human skeleton. On closer inspection, it didn't look like any depiction of a human skeleton that she'd seen. Its face was thin and white, almost skeletal but with visible lips and one yellow eye, the other hidden under a bandage.

"W-what are you?" she managed to say, at long last.

"I am a shinigami," it had sharp little teeth. Misa grimaced. It did not seem to notice. "My appearance to you means that you have touched the death note. My name is Rem."

Misa turned back to look where the book lay on the table among her colourful magazines. She walked over to pick it up.

"Yeah…what is that?" she said, opening it. "What does it mean, 'those whose names are written in here will die'?"

"That is the first rule of the death note," it continued, its eye trained on her in a way that made Misa feel awkward.

Misa stared at the off-white pages, running the line through her head, until something occurred to her.

"Is this what Kira uses?" she said, forcing herself to meet the creature's yellow eye. It stared back, reptilian.

"Yes, that human has one like it," it said, after a pause. "Another shinigami dropped a death note and this human picked it up."

Misa scratched her nails lightly across the surface of the book. It was a little rough to the touch, like it was old, but to look at, it was totally smooth. It was what he had, the weapon that was making the world a better place. Misa felt that same warmth of contentment. This was what was making everything alright again.

"It can use it to meet him," she said, quietly. "If I do it right, I can use it to meet him."

Rem was silent. There was something continually unnerving about the fact that it did not seem to breathe, even if she was getting used to the way it looked.

"To find out a person's name," said Rem, as if reciting something on prompt without energy. "There are the shinigami eyes."

"The shinigami eyes?"

"These allow you to know the name and lifespan of any human, as long as you can see their face. The payment for them is half your existing lifespan. This cannot be returned to you, even if you give up your death note."

Misa took in this information; obviously, cutting her life in half would mean that she would lose a lot. She was nineteen and her career was building. She was only a teen model, working young fashion and magazine covers, but she was working towards becoming an actress. Years of accolades should come with that. Perhaps she would get married and have children at some point soon. If she died, she might leave them behind. But then again, those children deserved to live in the place that Kira would create. If she died young then she probably didn't have that much life left, anyway. And now that she had the means to help Kira, she definitely should. She'd think about it.

"Do you have lifespans?" she asked, then. It might force her to make the deal; she should probably try and distract it.

"Not like you do," it replied. "We use the death notes to prolong our life spans by using yours. The death note will cut through your lifespans and whatever is left will be added to ours."

Something instinctive curled in Misa's gut at that.

"You pick bad people for that, right?" she asked, hopefully.

It fixed her coldly with its eye. "We pick anyone. Shinigami do not have much concept of wrongs and rights as you humans do."

The thing curling inside Misa intensified, and she felt a little nauseous.

"…But, that's awful…," she stammered.

"Do you not eat meat? Do you make sure that the animals that you eat have done something wrong?" it said, its tone almost accusing.

"Those are animals. Humans are more important and sacrifices need to be made, anyway," she reasoned. "…Kira – and me- we'll use our death notes to only kill those who deserve it."

The thing stared at her, thoughtfully. Misa knew she was right. Animals needed to be killed and eaten so humans could survive. The bad people and criminals needed to be killed, too, and they were no better than animals, anyway. She and Kira were better than them.

"Kira and I are going to be better shinigami," added Misa.

Later, Misa tried to sleep but her body felt too restless. Usually, she was so tired after an intensive shoot like the one she'd had that day that she fell asleep soon after getting into bed. Perhaps it was the fear of a possible attack. Perhaps it was finding out how Kira really killed. Perhaps it was finding out that the way Kira killed was also how a race of death gods kept themselves alive by killing humans. Perhaps it was the fact that one of those death gods was watching her as she lay there, its one eye inhuman and almost glowing.

"Don't you sleep?" she said.

It stared back, blankly. "We don't sleep," it said. "Although some shinigami like to do it as a hobby."

"Well, can't you try?" in Misa's sleepless state, she felt the irritation growing. It would be good if this thing could just shut its eye or something. "It's been a long, stressful day, and I am a model so I need my beauty sleep."

"I don't know how to sleep. As I said, it's quite like a hobby for shinigami, like playing a sport or painting. Things you need to learn in order to be able to do. I've never learnt how to do it."

Misa sighed and rolled over, feeling its eye on her back. "I'll have to teach you, then."

It said nothing.

"It's just weird. I'm Misa-Misa, an innocent young girl. All the magazines say so. I'm not supposed to have a creepy guy staring at me whilst I sleep; even if it is a big skeleton thing that no-one else can see."

"What makes you think I am male?"

"…Oh," Misa flipped herself back over. "I hadn't thought of that. I guess all species must have females so that they can breed. Even ones that aren't cute."

It –she- seemed to glower, then, although its – her – expression seemed to change, there was something in her eye that flickered somewhat, something that you needed to pay attention to. Or it might have been Misa's imagination. But Misa knew that no girl liked to be told that she's not cute.

"We don't breed, either. We can't. We do not have the reproductive organs to do so. We are immortal and some of us have been alive since before humanity. Not all of us even look as human as I do."

Misa was about to tell Rem that she didn't look human, anyway, but then something made it just not come out. It was a strange to be having a conversation with something that clearly didn't feel the same way that a human being did. If Misa was feeling particularly bitchy, and said something sly to one of her model friends, then there would be something like a strained smile and a slight narrowing of the eyes, before a thinly veiled come-back. Rem didn't seem like she'd have much reaction like that at all. It seemed almost pointless.

And now that Misa really looked at her, she did look quite feminine. Mostly in the face; although Rem was made of bone, she did not have a feminine delicacy, at all. But there was something in the angles of her face and the shape of her mouth that suggested her being female. It was only something you'd notice once you knew, but it was there. Perhaps in the shadows it was more obvious because lighting makes all the difference, as any model knows. In the front room in broad daylight, Rem had looked somewhere between bone-white and tomb-stone grey, but at the moment, she looked almost silver.

Misa felt tiredness begin to sink in at last, looking at the shinigami as her eyelids became heavy. Rem seemed more like some sort of magical creature, then, bestowing upon here the means to help Kira and save the world.

"Rem," she said, her voice becoming drowsy. "I want the eyes."

"Okay, then," Misa wasn't sure if she didn't hear a hint of uncertainty in that ominous voice. "You can have them."

There was a pinch in the back of her eyes as she nodded into sleep, uncomfortable but not painful.


	2. Spectacle

A/N: All shinigami are from the How-To-Read volume.

Disclaimer: Death Note and the characters and situations therein do not belong to me. Also, the views shown by the characters here are not representative of mine.

Warnings for mentions of sex, vague depictions of death and some language.

Spectacle

Shinigami were not, by nature, a particularly adventurous species, nor a particularly empathic one. Those who were at least somewhat social sat and gambled and had muttered, meandering conversations. Gossip was hard to come by, since not many of them ever did anything interesting enough to provoke it, but it was handed around when it came up, cackled over and then discarded.

Rem sometimes hovered around their little circles, and had taken part on occasion. She'd found it needlessly complicated and pointless in the long run, particularly for a shinigami. The only thing they really needed to do was look down on the human world, every so often, and find a lifespan to add to theirs. Some shinigami would toe the line, waiting until within hours of their deaths to pick out a human name to write in their note-books. Some never made it, and would crumble even if they lifted their chalk to write. Others wouldn't even realise, and would fall in a heap of dust, cards and their neglected notebook.

That was really the only way that signified time passing in the shinigami realm; the only other way to acknowledge time was to watch the human world. They lived, aged and died, and more were born to take their places. To pay that much attention to the human world was considered pointless by most shinigami. Humans were only good for their lifespans, and not much else, although some shinigami had penchant for things from the human realm. A couple of shinigami observed out of interest. Kinddara Guivelostain watched war and violence be carried out with relish. She wasn't a big gambler, and Rem had sat with her a number of times, although watching soft human flesh break and splatter like that hadn't been as interesting to Rem.

There was also Nu, who was the oldest shinigami other than the king. Nu found it difficult to even move, and spent her time besides the portals to the human world. On occasion, Rem had sat with her. The elderly shinigami had told her that she liked the regret of humans. The emotions that humans had even in their short lives were beautiful, she had said. Nu killed those who were recovering from the deepest regret, because the story was finished.

Then there was Gelus, a little patchwork shinigami who was the source of much derision over with the gamblers, because he liked the humans. Nobody actually liked the little flesh-bags, not usually. Rem had sat with him once or twice every so often, initially. Unlike Kinddara or Nu, he preferred the happier side of human life. His fascination with humans in turn became interesting to Rem. What was the use in watching something that you needed to kill and could do so easily? And he watched them, wanted them to succeed, and on occasion forced himself to kill one of them. Rem began sitting with him more often to watch with him.

She viewed the humans as they viewed the smaller animals. There for the taking and the eating. Except humans had no idea that they were in that position. They seemed to think that there was nothing above them, that they were the top of the food-chain. Everything else they'd beaten into submission. And yet they sustained a higher race, still, unknown to them.

And then he began watching one human in particular. A young girl who was as small and soft as the others. Then it became all about her. Before, at least it could be said that Gelus' obsession with the human race was one that was of somewhat detached interest. But he started singling one out among them, and differentiating her among the others and making her more than just a life-span. To a shinigami, that was dangerous.

"This is…," started Rem, standing. "No wonder the others call you names."

He barely noticed as he watched the girl, his head tilted. Rem caught a glimpse of her through the gap. She was sitting on a bench, legs crossed, flipping through a magazine, her dark hair pulled back off of her cherubic face. Rem wasn't sure if she'd ever see the appeal in human beings.

The others were chatting about him as they threw down cards and piled up chips.

"I dunno what he sees in those things," smirked Calikarcha, his six eyes blinking in sequence.

"You know he's got a thing for just one of them, now," cackled Daril Ghiroza, her gold chains jingling. "Some little female."

"Eurgh, I hope it's not gonna get weird," said Deridovely, his chitinous maw clicking against his mask. "I couldn't imagine."

There was a collective shudder.

"Just thinking about their skin and wet insides makes me want to be sick," muttered Calikarcha, before adding "if I could, that is."

Rem left them laughing to themselves and went to find Kinddara, who was in her usual place, watching a fire consuming a block of flats.

"It was a couple that started it," said Kinddara, watching the scene. "They left a pan boiling and went to bed, and it spread through the kitchen and everywhere. They died fucking! Hah!"

The shinigami chortled and clicked her boney fingers together.

"So there's going to be a lot of death?" asked Rem, shooting a casual glance at the scene.

"Yeah," Kinddara sounded despondent all of a sudden. "…That's almost a century lost, right there."

Down in the human world, a man ran out of the building to embrace a woman. Kinddara withdrew her death note from beside her left leg. "May as well recoup my losses." She murmered, before scribbling in her book. The man in the world below took a gun from his pocket and shot the woman before shooting himself. More mayhem broke out. Kinddara laughed once again.

"I love messing around with the rules," she said. "I bet you hadn't worked out how to kill two people at once, had you, Rem? They've no idea. So many deaths and they've no idea that it was me."

Like Gelus, Kinddara was certainly unique as a shinigami. Unlike the way Gelus was mocked, however, the other shinigami just kept away from her, mostly, and did not speak of her. Kinddara had obviously written down two names in her book, and had instructed one to kill the other. Shinigami were safe from each other, but imagination tended to frighten them. Irrationally, because very little could harm a shinigami.

This time, Rem found herself staring down at the world a little longer than she would, usually. Other humans had congregated around the man and the woman and they were being taken away in little white vans. It was a strange scene to watch, even with detachment.

Gelus continued to sit at his vantage point. Rem avoided him for a while. She spent more time with Nu, who disliked loud noises. Nu had somehow kept herself alive despite verging dangerously on loving those humans. It wasn't the humans that she loved, the old shinigami had said, but the emotions, and the way those emotions would stir and change in the volatile little creatures.

Eventually, curiosity got the better of her and she visited Gelus once again. Over his head, she could see the girl with her arm linked with that of a young man. Rem knew little of human romance and even less of sexual relations. Jokes were made of it among the shinigami, although it was considered disgusting.

"She has a friend?" she said, cautiously. Gelus had proved himself different in his fondness for a human, perhaps he was different in other ways, too. Sexual intercourse was not only against the rules for shinigami, but near impossible. That did not mean that Gelus did not wish to try, though.

"Yes," he said, pensively. "He is with her a lot. She has seen other boys but none like him."

Rem found herself both tempted to ask about the intimacy of the girl's relationship and an unwillingness to hear the answer. She decided not to respond.

"They haven't become intimate," he said, anyway. "It's strange, what she does, instead. She didn't do it, before, but she does it, now."

Rem couldn't imagine what he meant by that, and her mind refused to supply any suggestions. She sat and watched the girl and the boy walk alongside each other. The sun was out in their world, shining on her smooth skin and glossy hair. The girl was so alien to a shinigami that it almost made sense that Gelus was so obsessed with her.

Rem left his company soon after that, and crossed the gambling circle in their little enclave. One or two of the others looked up as they saw her pass.

"Rem," said Daril Ghiroza. "Anything interesting happen to Gelus' little human?"

Calikarcha cackled as he tossed a couple of pilfered beads into the centre. "Ghiroza, don't tell me you're becoming like that?"

"What? No!" snapped Daril. "It's just that it's so freaky."

"She has a boyfriend." Said Rem, off-handedly, only to be met by a raucous laugh from Deridovely.

"He wants to be that boyfriend, I bet," he said.

"How would he do it, though?" said Calikarcha. "His fingers?"

Deridovely growled in disgust. "Bet they're all squishy inside," he said. "Why would you want anything to do with that?"

The little group had been joined by another shinigami, Sidoh, an insect like individual with mandibles and a white carapace. He was a low-ranking shinigami, although not as low ranking as Gelus.

"Don't they die if you do that?" he said.

Deridovely rattled as he shook his head. "Naw," he said. "They like it, mostly. Humans have holes other places than the head."

Sidoh's little yellow eyes blinked twice. "But..." he stuttered, waving his arms.

Daril sighed. "Don't think about it, Sidoh." She said.

Calikarcha's bird-like mouth clicked. "It's horrible," he replied. "I dunno why we're even talking about it."

"If Gelus wants to get involved with some human female's…parts, then who are we to stop him?" she said. "His funeral."

"Really is," Laughed Deridovely.

Rem said nothing. It was none of her business, really, but she did slightly regret having told them what the girl was doing. It was so easy to pick on Gelus, after all, although he wasn't doing himself any favours by behaving that way. It was against the rules for shinigami to copulate with humans, even if they could, so he'd certainly be commiting suicide if he did decide to go down and try anything with the girl. Rem didn't know if she'd try to stop him if he did.

Rem hadn't ever asked about the girl's name. Rem obviously routinely found out human names when she cut off their lifespans. For some reason, it hadn't occurred to her to take the girl's life. She wondered if any of the shinigami would do so, just as a joke. Gelus would probably find a new girl to watch, but it seemed oddly cruel, all the same. Rem wasn't sure why that was; the girl was no different from any other human being.

There came a time, however, when she found herself forced to notice it. Human death, of course, was part of shinigami life. It was unusual for a shinigami to mourn a human, dangerous even, even though it would not break any rules. Gelus seemed more despondent than usual.

"Her parents died," he said.

Rem was quiet for a moment, watching the girl. She was crying, screaming next to a puddle of that red human blood. Two corpses lay next to each other, one with a wound in its chest, the other with a wound in its head. Rem pondered briefly that Kinddara would love the scene. Rem was inclined to let her stay ignorant of the scenario, however. Beyond the fascination of watching the girl in her deep grief, Rem didn't really feel like making the issue any worse for Gelus.

"I didn't do it," he added.

"I didn't think you did," Rem actually did wonder if any of the other shinigami were responsible. "But what happened?"

"It was a burglar," he said. "And they just happened to wake up and catch him. And she was awake, too, and saw it happen. But he didn't see her."

Rem watched the girl, now frozen. She was tiny and pale, her white face and large eyes almost doll like. Any rough treatment and she would snap, and break into clean pieces, and Rem couldn't imagine her bleeding like her parents had done, even though she knew that she must. It was then that she caught the girl's name, written in shaky letters above her head. _Amane Misa_. She also saw the lifespan, and decided not to point out to Gelus that this Misa did not have long to live.

Rem kept Misa's image in her mind for quite a while after that. The girl with her large glassy eyes and angular limbs seemed to embody the ready breakability that humans seemed to have. In all honesty, it made Rem feel uncomfortable; being aware of that began to break the barrier between the shinigami realm and the human world. She couldn't remember the last time that she'd seen Gelus actually write a name down in his book. Perhaps he'd already as good as committed suicide.

Gossip had moved away from the little patchwork shinigami to a new subject. Ryuk, a shinigami who she'd seen around had apparently dropped a death note into the human world. This had been done before, although it took so much effort following the human around that nobody really felt like doing it. Also, there were only so many death notes and it wasn't like humans were known for their stability. But he'd somehow got a second death note and kept his safe. Some said he'd stolen it, others said he'd somehow tricked the shinigami king into getting a second one.

"He's got a human, now," Ghiroza had said.

"Boy or girl?" asked Calikarcha.

"Dunno. Boy, I think," replied Daril.

Deridovely cackled. "Hope he doesn't get like Gelus."

Daril shook her head. "Nah, that's pretty unlikely. Ryuk's pretty weird, but he's not that weird."

Rem couldn't deny that she felt a strange sort of curiosity in what Ryuk was doing; she'd never thought about actually being down there among them. She tried to imagine how it would be in comparison to the deadness of the shinigami realm. Louder, brighter, more open, the sounds of humans sweeping all around, and the plants and animals. She wondered if Gelus would ever go down to see his Misa.

He was in his usual place, his one eye concentrated on the world below. Shinigami did not have much in the way of complex facial expressions (or even faces at all in some cases), but it was easy to learn how to read subtle nuances in a particular shinigami if you knew them well. Rem had learnt to notice certain things in Gelus' face, and his chin jutted out, slightly. He was concerned, to say the least.

"Her lifespan runs out, today…" he stammered. "But she looks so healthy…"

Rem looked down at the girl and, sure enough, glowing and animated as she usually was, the numbers over Misa's head were dangerously low. She was closer to death than she realised. Rem watched those red figures diminish, wondering how her heart would eventually stop. Gelus watched, pensively, as Misa left her friend's company and home and wandered out onto the street. Misa seemed a tiny shadow, now, passing every so often under a street lamp. There was a taller, larger shadow behind her.

Gelus picked up his notebook. Misa seemed to walk without worry, until the man caught up and was suddenly in front of her, wielding a knife and proclaiming how much he loved her, even as he waved that knife in her face. There was a gasp from Gelus' throat.

"Who would have thought that she would be stabbed," mused Rem. "What a way to go."

Gelus picked up his notebook, and his chalk, holding it in his short, stubby fingers. Rem reached out one of her own long, thin hands to stop him.

"Hey…" she protested, but the patchwork shinigami was already scribbling. His hands were clumsy and he wrote slowly, so there was time for hope until he'd finished writing.

"She's not worth the life of a shinigami, Gelus," said Rem, rapidly.

But Gelus was already crumbling, his fingers were disappearing even as he still wrote and his eye liquefying in its socket. Rem wanted to and felt like she should look away, but something prevented her. Shinigami deaths were not that often seen. Rem picked up his abandoned notebook and flipped it open. It didn't have many recent names. Gelus had written fewer and fewer names as he'd become more invested in the human world and Misa, it seemed.

Afterwards, Ryuk was momentarily usurped in gossip by Gelus, again.

"He died, you know?" said Calikarcha.

"Died of _what_?" demanded Deridovely.

"If a shinigami falls in love, and they extend the lifespan of their loved one, they die," explained Daril. "It's the only way a shinigami can die other than forgetting to write any names down."

"Well that's pretty stupid," retorted Deridovely. "Only two ways to die and he manages to do one of them."

Daril laughed. "Well, there's a reason he was the lowest ranking of all of us," she said.

Laugh they all did, but no-one went near Gelus' old vantage point for a while. The corpse of a human was one thing, but not one of the shinigami really wanted to see the remains of one of their own.

Rem returned to watch Misa once again, alone. This time, she was in her bathroom, washing her hair. After she dried it, it became apparent that it was no longer dark brown but vibrant and blonde. It made her seem brighter and a yet a little more innocent. Her movements were quick and hurried, and Rem could see that same blankness in her eyes even as she smiled and sang along with her songs. She was very much of the human world, bright, yet fragile. Rem was of the shinigami realm, old and resilient. Misa's lifespan was full again, with the earlier lifespan culls that Gelus had made during in his existence. She probably wouldn't last long.

Rem still had Gelus' old notebook and it wasn't really something that she herself wanted. Misa had Gelus' years, she was living the unlived time of a shinigami. Perhaps, like Ryuk had done, Rem should take that notebook down to Misa. If she had the life of a shinigami, she might as well have the tools of one. Rem had to admit that Ryuk's exploits were making her curious. His human was totalling up a huge amount of deaths in the name of stopping all evil. It was one of those weird ideas that only humans really had. But Rem was curious, both of the world and how Gelus' human would use the notebook of her saviour.

Rem only spoke to Nu before she left. The elderly shinigami had blinked at her with her many eyes and told her she may one day be as beautiful as a human being. Puzzled, Rem thought this over as she prepared to cross into the human world.

A/N: This fic is pretty much my take on how the Rem/Misa pairing actually works. How did Rem develop such strong feelings for Misa? In the flashback scene in the manga where Gelus dies, we see her being more curious over how Misa will die than worried for her, and when she's on Earth with Misa, she tells her there's no chance of her doing that. And then a week later, she's prepared to die for her.


	3. The Next Step

Disclaimer: Death Note and the characters and situations therein do not belong to me. Also, the views shown by the characters here are not representative of mine.

The Next Step

It had been easy to get used to the shinigami's presence. It would have been all too easy for Misa to feel out of her depth with something like a death note. Misa wasn't stupid, but her intelligence lay in a well-timed glance, a honey-voice and just the right touch and the right smile. Anything that would have the country following a cute girl 'because Misa-Misa asked you to'. But battle strategy had never been Misa's area, to the point where she would lose severe cute-girl points if she so much as admitted that she knew what 'battle strategy' meant. That sort of thing wasn't for innocent little girls.

Misa should have collapsed at the first hurdle. The pen should have fallen from her hand at the first name she'd written down. The pen shouldn't have even touched the page. But she'd flipped open her magazine, and seen the headline 'Idol Singer's Cheating Husband Arrested On Drugs Charges' and her pen had still hovered, but only for a second. Every stroke of ink, she told herself that it was alright, and she could turn back. She had until the end of the name to change her mind and yet the end of the name had come too soon and she'd written it. It had been so easy, so easy to picture his orange-tanned face whilst she was doing it, stretched into that sleazy grin. She'd heard from her friends that he pursued up-and-coming young models and that it would only be a matter of time that he went after her.

But after that, she'd finished his name, saw the Kanji written neatly on the page and hardly felt a thing. Perhaps it was the distance and the lack of contact. She didn't have to feel any flesh give way under a knife or the recoil of a gun. She didn't have to see any light disappearing from those already admittedly dead eyes. But something twitched and kept whispering in the back of her mind. _It still might be wrong._ But it wasn't wrong. It was what Kira did and it _wasn't wrong_. And she'd saved girls like her from heart break and drug addiction. And his wife from further abuse, although she would be upset, but it was for the good. They had a child, but the little girl would probably be better off without her dad. If he sold drugs, then who was to say that he didn't also abuse his family? Misa's parents had been good, and so they had deserved to stay alive.

Misa deserved to stay alive because she was only making sacrifices for the world, so it could be a better place. Rem's presence punctuated that. The note book was a gift from on high and the shinigami was the messenger. So then it had to be right, because Kira had one, too. Misa could never be wrong for as long as she did everything for the right reasons.

Under the watchful gaze of that yellow eye, Misa flipped through her magazine, searching for those that the world could do without. An American actress was caught drunk-driving and had her sentence reduced and was free, and she would turn up dead in the next car ride she took. A woman had kleptomania, and stole compulsively. But she was ruining the economy and so she would die after thinking she heard a burglar, and then would end up falling down the stairs. Thieves could be as bad as murderers; after all, a burglar had killed Misa's parents.

That was the first barrier to break. If Misa could perform the basic task then she knew she could take it further. She needed Kira's attention and the best way to get his attention was to give him what he most wanted. What he probably wanted was the detective L. Misa had the eyes, and all she had to do was get him out in the open and it would be clear, written over his head in dripping red.

Misa would have hated having nobody to talk about this with, usually. It would sit forever on her tongue and in the forefront of her mind. It would be too much and she'd have to stop. Having Rem to chatter to made it much easier. She asked her friend to help her and she couldn't even talk to her about it. She wanted to say what it was all about, and how exciting it all was, but then the girl would be dangerous and she'd have to kill her.

In the privacy of her own home, Misa would rave and giggle over her plans, whilst Rem listened stoically. Rem was important, and she was good for Misa to have around. But, in the end, Rem was just a tool. She came with the notebook. She wasn't human. It was like having a pet that Misa could talk to. Rem told her about where her notebook had come from, and how its previous owner had died. He'd been killed by love. If a shinigami saves a human they love, then they die.

"Oh, what a beautiful way to die!" she had trilled.

Rem had been silent and Misa couldn't help but tease her more. "Would you do that for me?" she said, biting her lip, lowering her eyelashes. Many a man would gladly lay down his life for her, she was sure. One shinigami already had, after all.

"Don't count on it," muttered the shinigami.

It didn't matter, though, because Kira was a better shinigami than any real shinigami, and he was bound to be willing to make sacrifices for anyone he loved. Anyone that had killed her parent's killer had to be everything a knight should be. Misa was pretty enough that he would take her on as a reason to do what he was doing, surely?

After looking him up, she'd seen that he was handsome. It really couldn't be a coincidence that he was beautiful and had killed her parent's killer. She would meet him, and that would be that. They would make a beautiful couple for a new, peaceful world, one that they would work hard to create.

Making people want her was what Misa did for a living, but Kira would love her anyway. It wouldn't be a skill she'd need to use on him. There would be no manipulation between them. Only pure and true love.

It was still a useful skill, though, and she could use it, anyway. Rem was there to help her with the notebook, and why couldn't she help in other ways. She stood watching over her like a guard, and a good guard always sacrificed himself for his princess if he needed to. What kind of love could something like a shinigami have, anyway?

Misa didn't want Rem to die, but she'd only really protect her if she loved her. Once Kira loved Misa then it would be fine. Hopefully, Rem would not have killed herself for anyone at that point. Misa was in a dangerous place, however, and L or anyone could find her and if need be, Rem could kill them.

But Rem wasn't going to commit suicide, so Misa had to ensure that she wouldn't mind doing so. It was for the greater good, after all, and Rem wouldn't do anything except return to wherever the shinigami lived and kill people without even thinking about whether they were good or bad or anything.

If Misa could use herself to sell things for other people, she should be able to use herself to save her own life.

It was almost like seducing a man, after all. Misa hadn't really done that, much, but she used her looks to get work as a model, and it was often the same thing. Misa assumed that she must have been doing something right with the shinigami who'd saved her life. There was nothing inherently sexual about Rem, however, so perhaps the yellow eye wouldn't be on Misa's body. She moved with a slight undulation to her hips for a while, and imagined if she could feel Rem's gaze trained on her retreating figure.

It wasn't tangible, obviously, but it was in the white of their eyes that she could see out of the corner of her own. It was more of an intuitive pull on her person. Of course, she could see their names, now, and just how long they had left. She couldn't see any such thing suspended over Rem's head. In Misa's room, among the creepy-cute dolls and posters that decorated her shelves and walls, Rem almost looked like one of them. Like something that Misa had seen and bought, and carried home in a sweetly decorated paper bag. Except much taller, of course. But she did not look out of place in Misa's home.

She met the slanted amber eye and it stared stoically back.

"It's amazing how Rem fits in Misa's room," she said, with a giggle. Everyone loved that third-person thing. Rem nodded, slightly. Misa wondered if shinigami ever felt a need to be accepted or to belong.

"Misa is going to have a bath, now," she said, then, solemnly. "Please wait until she is covered by bubbles before you follow."

Once in that state, Misa considered the situation; Rem was watching her as she lay wet and naked behind a veil of steam. There were already magazines that would pay for that shot. It didn't feel like when those sleazy media guys were watching her bikini shoots, though. Misa wouldn't do nudity, anyway, but the offers came in and the looks were lecherous, regardless.

Perhaps it was just the sheer lack of humanity in Rem. Maybe she was approaching it the wrong way. Rem spoke to her a little differently, too. Misa should take note of that. Maybe she liked the soft, sweet side of Misa-Misa. It was, in many ways, her most marketable aspect, after all; little girls and middle-aged men alike took interest in this side. She raised herself from the bathtub and covered her chest, feigning a blush.

"Rem…please do not look at me when I'm like this," she stammered.

Rem said nothing, and merely phased back through the wall. Misa stared at the space where she was. Perhaps Rem was not a human-loving shinigami. Feeling some sort of irritation, Misa got out of the bath and stormed out, forgetting all traces of dignity. When faced with her, Rem gave her a sort of muted questioning look. Misa told herself if she could get Rem to protect her up until she could get to Kira, it would be much better.

Still, Misa kept her cutesier side in mind when it came to Rem. Misa was energetic by nature, but keeping herself in that sort of idol-mode was grating, even for her. This was especially true on top of keeping up with being the second Kira, because L was the end goal, she knew. It seemed like he wouldn't be too difficult to get rid of in the long run, judging by how much trouble he was having finding Kira. Even Misa was ahead of him in some ways. Perhaps if she did get Rem to feel for her, then the shinigami could kill L and that would make Kira most happy with Misa. Of course, Rem would go, and Misa would at least rather try and kill L, herself. Especially if Kira found out that she didn't do it, herself.

Because that was the important thing, right? If Misa was truly worthy of Kira then she should be able to take out one little detective, right? Rem's protection should be over the long term. If Misa did it right, she would be able to get rid of L, keep Rem around and work alongside Kira.

The shinigami kept her stoic visage, mostly, and the fact that she couldn't work her out was infuriating to Misa. But she persevered, and hoped that the shinigami would eventually serve as more than an earpiece for Misa's plans. Although Misa still had to admit that her presence gave her a little extra courage.

A week passed and Misa kept up her diligent work as the new Kira, watching television and flipping through her magazines and scribbling down certain names that appeared in floating red above faces. Hopefully, Kira's expectations of her grew as her position as the new Kira did.

Misa sat one evening on the end of her bed, watching the news with Rem standing ever silent across from her. Misa still wore the dress she'd had on from an exclusive meeting with a couple of television executives and some fashion designers. She would take it off after the news was over and put on something more comfortable. She still didn't know how great Rem's allegiance to her really was, although she could probably determine that the shinigami at least would not abandon her.

There was an announcement, then. They were asking her to turn herself in, that it could all just stop now if she wanted it to. Perhaps she would have hesitated over the offer if she'd been alone. The floor of her position might have disappeared from underneath her and become unstable at the offer. The offer of release might have proved too much, even if she knew the place that offer had come from was faulty and didn't punish those that they should. Maybe she would have found being Kira harder all along and that that voice would the final straw in convincing her that it didn't need be hard any longer.

But, then, she'd had Rem, who had stood there like a fairy-tale creature beside the beautiful maiden. She reminded Misa of what she was going for here. And with that, Misa strode from the room, leaving the shinigami to flap her wings solemnly behind her. There was no time to consider her lace and rubber dress, or the fact that it would take half an hour to get to where she'd found out that Kira lived.

Meeting Kira was both everything Misa had imagined and almost nothing like it at once. He was as handsome as he'd seemed that day in Aoyama, and intelligent and strong and well-mannered. But he was cold, too. Most men would open up to her almost immediately, particularly after she had opened up like she had and she was throwing herself at him, wholesale. But nothing, not the crying, the flirting, the devotion or the way she was dressed would force his face to crumple. Nevertheless, she could forgive him for it. He was Kira, and he would love her, eventually, once she had proved herself to him. And surely some romance would make him open up, too. Misa was sure that that always worked.

She had been so wrapped up in meeting Kira, that she hadn't registered the words said by Rem until afterwards. The shinigami had as good as threatened Kira in her name.

"Rem," she said, later, stretching on her bed, clad in a black nightie. "Are you really going to protect me?"

Rem nodded her skeletal head, slightly. "You are human," she said.

Misa didn't really understand what she meant by that, but she smiled, anyway. It was all coming together. She was Kira's girlfriend- pretend only but she could change that!- and there was something comforting in the idea that a creature like Rem was protecting her from something awful.


End file.
